


"Don't Worry"

by overcastskeleton



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Infinity War, Meeting the Parents, POC Reader, anecdotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 13:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overcastskeleton/pseuds/overcastskeleton
Summary: You are especially nervous to meet Queen Romanda, T'challa's mother, and for good reason. T'challa more than assures you that you have nothing to worry about, and after your visit you realize he was right.





	"Don't Worry"

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my best friend for giving me this idea at 11:45 last night.   
> Also I saw Black Panther, it was amazing. Get ready for the ton of T'Challa themed imagines that will be coming your way.

You walked down the spacious halls of the palace, hand in hand with T'Challa. Somehow even the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours didn’t ease the anxiety pulsing through you about what was about to happen.

You were on your way to meet Queen Ramonda for the first time since beginning your relationship with her son eight months prior. Of course, you knew her as your queen and former boss, but possible mother in law was a whole different territory.

Of course so was T'Challa and yours relationship. You were there for him during those dark days after his father’s death. It was in you that he had begin to see the light. 

“(Y/N),” T'Challa said, with a smile on his face. “Stop worrying.”

You looked up at him, snapping out of your thoughts. “I wasn’t.” 

He smiled, impossibly white teeth against dark skin. “You were.”  

“How do you know?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

T'Challa stopped walking and stood in front of you. “You were biting your lip, I was afraid it would bleed.” He brushed his thumb over your ragged bottom lip. 

You looked away shyly, heat rushing up to your face. “You got me.” 

The playful smirk was back. “I did.” He took both of your hands and laced his fingers through yours. “You have nothing to be worried about. My mother loves you.”

“Yeah, as a warrior.” You looked away. 

T'Challa gently placed his hand on your chin and turned you to face him. “And now as a daughter.” He leaned down and pressed a slow and gentle kiss to your lips. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his body, a goofy smile on your face. “I don’t know how you do that.” 

“Do what?” He asked, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“You just make me feel,” you paused for a moment searching for the right word. “Safe.” You decided. “And that’s a different feeling for a warrior.” 

T'Challa stepped back, arms still wrapped around your waist. “It is indeed.” 

The giant wooden doors at the end of the hall opened, and you moved to pull away, but T'Challa held you tightly against him. 

“T'Challa.” Queen Romanda stepped out of the room, flanked by a few of the Dora Milaje, warriors like yourself. 

“Mother.” T'Challa let you go to embrace his mother.

She looked around him, and fixed her eyes on you. “(Y/N).” 

“Your highness.” You bowed. 

Romanda smiled. “Don’t just stand there. Bring her inside.” She turned and entered her chambers. 

You exhaled and felt T'Challa squeeze your hand.  _ Here goes nothing _ . 

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear. 

You nodded and followed him into the large room. You had been in here countless times before, but the familiarity of your surroundings did nothing but heighten your senses more. 

T'Challa took a seat across from his mother, inviting you to do the same. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Romanda said to her son. “I want to speak to (Y/N) alone, once we get pleasantries out of the way.” 

You gulped, shoulders tensing. T'Challa noticed your rigid appearance and slung an arm around your waist. “You only want me to leave the room so that you can gossip about me.” 

“Me?” Romanda placed a hand over her heart. “I would never. In fact it hurts me that you would insinuate such a thing.”

“Of course, what was I thinking?” T'Challa smirked. 

“So, how is the outside world?” Romanda asked, lounging out on her chair. 

T'Challa sighed. “The Americans suffer as their ignorant orange ruler shouts insults at African countries that were once richer than he ever will be. They gun each other down in hate and fail to take responsibility for their actions. They look for peace, but ignore the very things that could bring about its presence.” 

She nodded sullenly. “And these heroes you ran off to fight with?” Romanda raised an eyebrow. 

“Divided.” T'Challa said plainly. “Just like the nation they symbolize. They must unite soon, something big is coming. The ancestors warned me.” 

The conversation took on a lighter tone after that. T'Challa asked about the kingdom, the monarchical gossip and so forth. You spoke very little, keeping your eyes fixed on where T'Challa’s hand met your hip and practicing exactly what you would say when the moment came. 

Finally, after what seemed like five minutes, but in reality had been a couple hours, T'Challa and Romanda had run out of natural conversations. 

“Son,” Romanda said, a hard edge on her voice. “I think Shuri mentioned wanting to see you in the lab upon your arrival.” 

T'Challa stood. “ _ That _ is my cue.” 

You stared up at him, a panicked expression on your face. He smiled once again and leaned down. 

“Don’t worry.” His lips lingered on yours for a moment. 

“T'Challa,” Romanda said impatiently. 

T'Challa turned and bowed, pressing a kiss to his mother’s hand. “Mother,” He answered back, and then in a low whisper, “don’t torture the girl. She’s terrified.” 

He gave you one last reassuring smile, and then left the room. The bang of the giant doors closing, sounded eerily like the final toll of death’s bell. 

Romanda smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad it was you.” 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, astonished. 

She rolled her eyes. “For years I dealt with ‘I love her, but I’m too scared to tell her. Mother what should I do?’ I thought he would never get on with it.” 

“He-he said that about me?” Your jaw stood agape. “F-for years.”

The queen nodded. “You should see the way he looks at you. Like a blind man seeing the son for the first time…” She paused. “After the death of his father, I never thought he’d look like that again. But without fail, every time he speaks of you, he has that glimmer in his eyes. The same way T’Chaka would look at me.” Her face fell for just a moment, but the next, the smile was back. 

“You can relax,” she added. “This is not an interview. I’m sure you faced worse than an angry mother before.” 

You smiled for the first time. “Erik Kilmonger pales in comparison to the damage you could cause, your highness.” 

The queen laughed. “I’m afraid you’re right. 

The atmosphere shifted, you became more relaxed, as did the queen herself. T’Challa was the main topic of conversation; more specifically anecdotal tales from his younger, more accident prone years. 

“He got stuck in a tree?” You asked, between fits of laughter. 

“Yes.” Romanda wiped tears from her eyes. “He misjudged the height and was too scared to get down. His father had to climb up and get him.” 

You laughed harder. 

“And you would think that he would have learned his lesson the first time, but he was stubborn, that boy-”

You snorted. “And still is.” 

“He kept climbing it, and every day was the same. Until one day, he decided to jump out of it, and he broke his arm.” She laughed louder. “You should have seen his little face, he didn’t want to cry and seem weak. I may have a photo around here somewhere-” 

“Mother please.” T’Challa said from the doorway. “She doesn’t need to see that.” 

You raised a hand. “She does actually.” 

“I’ll have Shuri find it, she’s much better at it than I am.” Romanda stood. 

T’Challa offered you a hand. “We must be on our way.” 

“Pity, I was just about to tell her about the time you evaded your nurse and ran naked down the streets-” 

“Mother!” 

“I didn’t know his highness was a streaker.” You giggled as he pulled you to your feet. 

“I was two,” he protested, with a grumpy look. “My queen, it was a pleasure as always.” He hugged his mother. “I will see you again soon.” 

Romanda kissed his cheek and then, much to your surprise, pulled you into a tight huge. “I look forward to seeing you around here a lot more, especially if you want to see that photo.” She kissed your cheek and you returned the gesture. 

“Goodbye, your highness.” You bowed. 

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” Queen Romanda smiled back. 

T’Challa led you out of the room. “See, that wasn’t bad at all.” 

“You were right,” you admitted with a carefree smile. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Could you say that again? I don’t think I heard you.” 

You rolled your eyes and hit his chest. “Come on, I want to see the tree that bested the mighty Black Panther for all those years.” You ran out of the palace, T’Challa right on your heels. 


End file.
